"There must be a metaphor here somewhere," I say to my father as we watch a tire-sized olive ridley sea turtle haul itself back into the Pacific Ocean after laying scores of glistening eggs.

Dad nods pensively – the symbolism must be all the more poignant five years into his retirement – and turns his attention to the turtle nests that litter the black sands of the Camaronal Wildlife Refuge on the Nicoya Peninsula in Costa Rica. Groups of what appear to be locals and visitors like us huddle around a few of the fresh pits, scooping up eggs and carrying them toward a rustic ranger station beside the parking lot.

I stroll over. "Excuse me," I inquire, "are you supposed to be doing that?"

"Si," replies a smiling, tanned forager. "I'm a park ranger, and these are my volunteers."

Camaronal, it turns out, is one of dozens of preserves in popular snowbird destinations where volunteer tourism operators connect paying guests with a wide range of conservation and research projects. At Florida's non-profit Wild Horse Rescue Center, for instance, Vancouver-based GoVoluntouring (a division of Flight Centre Travel Group) gives travellers the opportunity to nurse abused wild mustangs back to health. Then there's the privately-funded La Marina Foundation Wildlife Rescue Center in Costa Rica's Alajuela province, where GoEco volunteershelp rehabilitate injured and displaced tapirs, spider monkeys and scarlet macaws, among other animals.

GoVoluntouring founder Aaron Smith describes his four-year-old company as "an aggregator of need, and a way to filter that need into various channels that match up with travellers."

Its 15,000-plus tourist volunteers seek "a deeper connection" and "feel good about doing good," he continues, adding that many of the trips allow guests to participate in applied projects that aren't open to the public.

After retiring from her job as a biology lab technician in a New York high school, Helen Engelhardt was ready to explore her life-long interest in ecology. While spending winters on the island of St. Croix, she became fascinated with sea turtles and amassed an extensive collection of turtle-themed artwork. "One day it occurred to me that I knew very little about them, even though I found them so interesting and beautiful," Engelhardt explains. "I had barely even seen any."

So she signed on for an expedition with Earthwatch Institute, a Boston-based non-profit organization that arranges for members of the public to help scientists with field research all over the world. "These trips aren't just fun and interesting," Engelhardt says. "You're doing work that is necessary to help ensure an organism's survival."

Engelhardt did much more than simply spot endangered green and hawksbill turtles during her 10-day "Swimming with Sea Turtles in the Bahamas" expedition at the Cape Eleuthera Institute. She surveyed their population, diet and habitat, helped measure and tag them, and deployed underwater video units, among much else.

At 75, Engelhardt says she wasn't physically capable of performing every task. "With the tagging, someone in our three-member team needed to be able to swim fast enough to catch up with a turtle being pursued by a motor boat. I wasn't that person, but I could hold the turtle while it was being measured and tagged."

READ THE REST OF THE STORY IN THE GLOBE AND MAIL

I won't deny that there are some glaring gaps in the Canada 150 Countdown.

These regional omissions were pointed out to me several times as July 1 neared. As “Canucklehead” put it in a comment: "The Canada 150 Countdown? Where's Manitoba? Yukon? The WHOLE DAMN EAST COAST? Time for a new title!"

Fair point.

Then there's this comment from “From The Rock”: "Still waiting for something from Newfoundland. Why don't you come visit?"

Honestly, I would like nothing more. Between now and the Canada 200 celebrations I plan to attend as a vampire or mummy, I solemnly pledge to explore more of the six provinces and two territories that aren't covered by the Ontario-Quebec-BC-Alberta-NWT Countdown. (Happy now, Canucklehead?) Now that my Atlantic Canada to-do list is out there, here are the five spots at the top of my 50-year itinerary for Yukon and Nunavut:

Dawson City
There’s still gold in the hills surrounding the former Yukon capital, but these days it’s far from the only draw. The vestiges of the late-19th-century Klondike Gold Rush are still prominent: The Yukon Gold Panning Championships each July; tours of Robert Service‘s home, which provide insights into the life and work of the “Bard of the Yukon;” Diamond Tooth Gerties saloon, where live can-can shows remain a staple; and the Downtown Hotel, where Sourtoe Cocktail, made with a real mummified human toe, is still served. One simple (and disgusting) act will get you into the Sourtoe Cocktail Club: “You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow, but your lips have gotta touch the toe.” And note-to-self: Several toes have been swallowed over the decades, and I don’t want to be “that guy.”

Dempster Highway
Starting near Dawson City, the Dempster winds 730 gravelly kilometres to the town of Inuvik, NWT, on the wildlife-rich delta of the Mackenzie River. Along the way it crosses the Arctic Circle, passes the jagged peaks and moss-carpeted valleys of Tombstone Territorial Park, and bisects enormous tracts of tundra that are home to moose, caribou and grizzly bears. If all this doesn’t make the miles melt away, the highway is also an essential lifeline for remote northern communities where First Nations customs are still practiced as they have been for centuries.

Kluane National Park and Reserve
Do the math: When 82 per cent of a national park is covered by either mountains or glaciers (or both), you know you’re in for something spectacular. It certainly adds up in this list’s largest park, a 21,980-square-kilometre wonderland of icy beauty tucked into Yukon’s southwest corner. Mixed forests and colourful alpine tundra flourish in Kluane’s remaining 18 per cent, providing a home for eagles, grizzly bears, wolves and other creatures that are often at risk in busier parks to the south. And topping it all off — literally — is Mount Logan, at 5,959 metres Canada's highest peak.

Auyuittuq National Park
If you’re going to name a peak after the Norse god of thunder and lightening, it had better be…striking. And Mount Thor is certainly that. The dramatic granite monolith in Auyuittuq National Park on Baffin Island is a respectable 1,675 metres tall — starting almost at sea level — but 1,250 metres of that is sheer cliff, creating the Earth’s greatest purely vertical drop. In addition to being predictably popular with rock climbers, the precipice is world-renowned among base jumpers. For my part, I’ll probably leave my wingsuit at home.

Bathurst Inlet Lodge
Formerly a Hudson’s Bay Trading Post and Oblate mission, the 42-year-old lodge offers nicely appointed rooms in a variety of quirky locations: a deconsecrated church, cabins overlooking the Burnside Delta, the two-bedroom Taipana House, a former trading post warehouse, and a former radio transmission station. Staying here is said to offer a glimpse into the traditional Inuit lifestyle, as well an opportunity to spot Arctic wildlife such as foxes, seals, barren-ground caribou and muskox from hiking trails and sea kayaks. Also in the area is the Wilberforce Falls, the highest waterfall above the Arctic Circle.

​Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, a few are acquired tastes, and this one celebrates the ski resort where I grew up — and learned to duck the rope.

“Trapper” Jerry Kernen, the 93-year-old local legend who’s been skiing Sunshine Village for the past three decades, simply tips his alligator-tooth cowboy hat and heads downhill when he’s hailed near the bottom of the Banff resort’s revamped Strawberry chairlift.

Behind him, the soaring windows of the Sunshine Mountain Lodge’s new west wing reflect the brilliant remnants of the afternoon.

This moment of contrast encapsulates the changes at Sunshine, as well as at Marmot Basin in Jasper, during the 2011 ski season. Together, the two Rocky Mountain resorts have seen more than $50 million in new development in the last decade, all while complying with strict Parks Canada regulations that favour conservation over expansion.

Indeed, Sunshine’s limited on-hill accommodations prevent what spokesman Doug Firby calls “mountain sprawl.” Most of Canada’s large ski areas — Whistler, Big White, Mont Tremblant and the like — are located outside of protected areas and have been able to grow aggressively, adding condos, hotels, shopping plazas and other amenities.

Sunshine, however, offers just one large day lodge, the aforementioned 84-room boutique hotel, and a single saloon — Mad Trapper’s, named after Kernen — once skiers step off the 4.3-kilometre-long gondola ride that connects the parking area to the resort’s nine chairlifts and 3,000-plus acres of skiable terrain. Fact is, for overnight guests seeking rows of souvenir shops and non-stop nightlife, Sunshine won’t fit the bill.

It’s the “Champagne powder” and jaw-dropping national park scenery that keeps Kernen and millions of other skiers and snowboarders coming back, Firby says. “There’s nowhere in the world that has this snow, these views, and we don’t make you wait in lift lines. It’s not a sea of condos up here, so it never gets too crowded.”

From the top of Mount Standish, the smallest of Sunshine’s three peaks, the panorama seems little touched by the hands of man. To the west, beyond a sea of alpine meadows, looms 3,620-metre Mount Assiniboine, which straddles the Great Divide separating North America’s continental watersheds. To the east, the valley cradling the resort winds toward Goat’s Eye Mountain, which nearly doubled Sunshine’s size when it opened to skiers in 1995. Lookout Mountain soars into the clear northern sky, providing access to the legendary Delirium Dive extreme-skiing area and a 15-acre terrain park.

Read the rest of the story in the Toronto Star

WHERE TO STAY
With its full-service Grotto Spa and locally-sourced Evergreen Restaurant – both of which can be enjoyed for free with enough Marriott Rewards points – the luxurious Delta Hotels Banff Royal Canadian Lodge is the ideal place to ease tired muscles and refuel after a day at Sunshine Village.

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the dozens of places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are famous, others are little-known, a few are acquired tastes, and this one features 280 metres of mountain air beneath a shiny glass floor.
​
“Do you want to jump?”

I wouldn’t usually accept this invitation when standing on an alpine lookout high above a rushing river. But I jump anyway … and again, and again. Turns out my guide and I both have to keep hopping to achieve the desired effect: Making the Glacier Skywalk in Jasper National Park tremble like a suspension bridge.

This isn’t the first thrill I encounter on the award-winning catwalk, a cantilevered structure that juts 30 metres out from the cliff face. It takes me a minute or two to venture out onto the glass floor, which, like the ones at the CN Tower in Toronto and Grand Canyon Skywalk in Arizona, delivers the disconcerting impression of stepping into thin air. It’s also one of the few lookouts in the world where visitors will immediately stare at the floor, rather than out a window or over a railing at the beauty beyond.

Here along the Icefields Parkway, the 230-kilometre ribbon of asphalt linking Banff and Jasper, that beauty is world-renowned. Each year, about a million travellers come by car, bus and bike to admire its glacier-clad peaks, turquoise lakes and rushing waterfalls. Thousands of these visitors venture deep into the surrounding wilderness, but they are the exception. According to Parks Canada, less than a third leave a paved surface.
​
Fostering deeper connections with the outdoors is one of the main goals of the Skywalk, explains David McKenna, president of Banff-based Brewster Travel Canada, which owns the new attraction. “We’re luring people into nature in a very controlled, safe environment that also educates and cultivates respect for the park,” he says, adding that the Skywalk allows visitors to explore independently and “take a step into the wilderness that feels a little bit daring.”

Still, the seven-year project has drawn plenty of opposition, even after Parks Canada approved Brewster’s environmental assessment in 2012. Given the project’s scale, visibility and $21-million price tag – McKenna calls it “the first significant attraction to be built in a mountain national park in 50 years” – this controversy is unlikely to disappear any time soon, what with a tiny percentage of Jasper zoned for outdoor recreation projects like the Skywalk, which opened in 2014.

Read the rest of the story in the Globe and Mail.

WHERE TO STAY
A relentlessly spectacular 2.5-hour drive south of the Skywalk, the luxurious Delta Hotels Banff Royal Canadian Lodge features a mineral pool and full-service spa.

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, a few are acquired tastes, and this one celebrates spots that are literally out of this world.

I dream of venturing into space one day, but unless my script for Mostly Amazing: The Movie gets picked up it doesn’t seem likely to happen.

The next best thing: Gazing deep into the cosmos through a powerful telescope in Jasper National Park. Jasper isn't the world's largest dark sky preserve anymore — having lost the title to nearby Wood Buffalo National Park in 2013 — but it's still one of the most compelling places to stargaze thanks to dozens of designated observation sites that are both free of light pollution and jaw-droppingly scenic.

I had a chance to visit with Ryan Bray, Jasper’s digital media specialist, in April of 2014, and was enthralled by his demonstrations of time-lapse and astronomical photography. (I mean, just look at the photos by Bray and his colleagues displayed above.)

Bray is among the interpreters at the 2017 Jasper Dark Sky Festival. Now in its ninth year, the nine-day fest kicks off on Oct. 13 and typially includes an astronomer-led tour of the gargantuan Columbia Icefield, as well as free and ticketed events encompassing live orchestral music, themed dinners, and plenty of organized astronomy and photography.

Another compelling nighttime option: The Maligne Canyon Icewalk (pictured below). I have already picked my way across the frozen river at the bottom of the 20-metre-deep limestone chasm with a Jasper Adventure Centre guide, and was struck by the countless spring-fed icefalls and caves formed by warm air vents. It was gorgeous in daylight, so I can only imagine how it would look under a full moon with a headlamp illuminating the icy canyon walls.

WHERE TO STAY
Out-of-province visitors to Jasper will likely pass through Edmonton, where the upscale Delta Hotels Edmonton Centre Suites offers a “Best Rate Guarantee” for Marriott Rewards members.

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the 30 places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, a few are acquired tastes, and this one, well, acrophobes should probably stop reading right now...

From where I’m hanging, on a sheer cliff face some 700 metres above the town of Banff, Alta., it’s clear that my scaling skills are about to be tested like never before.

Conquering Mount Norquay’s three-year-old via ferrata “is like climbing a series of ladders,” the ski resort’s website says. But I’m not scaling the brick walls of my Toronto semi here. Alongside an alpine guide and two other guests, I am making my way up and across 260 vertical metres of Rocky Mountain limestone – that’s half the height of the CN Tower – while tethered to a novice-friendly network of steel cables.

The first and only via ferrata in a Canadian national park is the centrepiece of Norquay’s revamped summer operations. These resumed in 2014 after a 25-year hiatus, with a double chairlift carrying sightseers, diners and climbers to the Cliffhouse Bistro, a Mad Men-era eatery with glorious panoramic windows, a menu of locally sourced cuisine and an avalanche-proof roof.
It may have been delicious, but my charcuterie platter is forgotten as soon as Memorial Slab looms into view. After our thirtysomething guide, Erica Roles, delivers a short tutorial on the carabiner-equipped “leashes” tethering us to the via ferrata – that’s “iron road” in Italian – we trek around the Cliffhouse and apply our new skills to the first of three cliff faces on the four-hour Ridgewalker Route.

“If you’ve made it this far, you know you can do this,” Roles says as I step onto a rocky outcrop on the far side of the precipice…

Read the rest of the story in The Globe and Mail.

WHERE TO STAY
With its full-service Grotto Spa and locally-sourced Evergreen Restaurant – both of which can be enjoyed for free with enough Marriott Rewards points – the luxurious Delta Hotels Banff Royal Canadian Lodge is the ideal place to ease tired muscles and refuel after an afternoon of via ferrata-ing.